Basketball (And Other Things)

by Shea Serrano

  1. I say the Lakers would’ve lost that game just because that’s what logic tells me, but when I actually really and truly think about it, I have to assume that, given Phil Jackson’s basketball life, the Lakers would’ve probably ended up hitting some sort of four-point play at the buzzer to win the game anyway.

  2. I’m willfully choosing to ignore that the Kings had built up a 20-point lead by the end of the first quarter and then gave it all back later in the game.

  3.

  4. In 30 career playoff games against the Spurs, Kobe made 336 of 711 shots. He made more shots in the playoffs against the Spurs than any other player in history. (Dirk Nowitzki is second at 265.)

  5. Manu was also the one who fouled Nowitzki. It was one of those giveth-and-taketh situations.

  6. It was 100 percent unreal that Miami managed to win that game. LeBron had two big turnovers in the final minute that should’ve put everything out of reach for the Heat (he also had 16 points in the fourth, to be fair). The Spurs went on an 8–0 run that gave them a five-point lead with less than 30 seconds left. Then LeBron hit a three, Kawhi missed a free throw, then Allen hit a three. And what’s lost amidst all of that: Popovich took Duncan out for both of the final defensive possessions, and on both of those someone on the Heat missed a three and someone else on the Heat got an offensive rebound. I really feel in my heart that Duncan wouldn’t have let that happen had he been in there. That’s just me guessing, though.

  7. I’m not sure if this is weird or not, but I kind of don’t hate that the Spurs lost the 2013 Finals. I mean, please, do not get me wrong: When it happened, I was all the way devastated. I remember I went and took, like, what had to have been a two-hour shower after Game 6. And it was even harder to watch my beloved Tim Duncan upset after he missed a bunny in the final seconds of Game 7 that would’ve tied the game. But without 2013’s heartbreak, we don’t get the euphoria of 2014’s win, which remains my all-time favorite basketball moment. There were just so many great redemption stories in that moment. So in a way, I think it needed to happen the way it happened. Does that make sense?

  8. A 3-1 lead they would surrender, FYI.

  9. It was almost the exact same spot where Nash turned the ball over at the end of regulation that led to Kobe’s game-tying shot. All in all, it was a rough day for Steve.

  10. A better one for Suns fans was Stephon Marbury hitting a three-pointer at the buzzer of Game 1 of the Suns vs. Spurs first-round matchup in 2003. On the play before his three, Tim Duncan missed two free throws.

  11. The Cavs were actually up 23 points in that game. It should’ve never been close. They ended up losing that series to the Magic, who then lost in the Finals to the Lakers.

  12. Turkoglu vs. Pavlovic is the European version of Magic vs. Bird, probably.

  13. Jameer Nelson was also on that team but he missed the whole run up to the Finals due to injury.

  14. I was rooting for the Celtics that series.

  15. One of my favorite things about this play is Mike Tirico losing his fucking mind calling the play. One of my other favorite things about the play is that while all the players were getting set up to run the play or defend the play, James Harden told Pat Beverley and Chandler Parsons to switch players. Pat, the best perimeter defender the Rockets had, was originally guarding Lillard. Harden fussed at them for a second, they switched, then Lillard sprinted off away from the slower Chandler easily.

  WAS KOBE BRYANT A DORK?

  (AND ALSO: HOW MANY YEARS DURING HIS CAREER WAS KOBE BRYANT THE BEST PLAYER IN THE LEAGUE?)

  My first favorite Kobe Bryant memory is barely even a memory; it’s more of an idea of a memory, or the edges of a memory, or the glow of a memory, which is how most of our important memories get registered, I think.

  This was in 2007 or 2008, possibly 2009 or 2010, perhaps 2006 or maybe 2011. The Lakers had just played the Rockets, and they’d possibly played the Mavs the night before. NBA teams will, on occasion, do a Texas trip and play the Spurs, Rockets, Mavs in succession in whatever order, so I’m assuming here that the Lakers were on that trip. I’m also assuming they’d already played the Mavs by the night of their Rockets game, but that’s only because Dallas is north of Houston if you look at a Texas map, which, admittedly, probably isn’t a key factor that NBA schedule makers consider when they make schedules, so I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. Because the memory has nothing to do with whether or not the Lakers had played (or were playing) the Mavs. It has to do with the Spurs, who the Lakers were scheduled to play after the Rockets.

  But so the Lakers played the Rockets one night in one of those years possibly as a part of their Texas trip, and they lost to them or they beat them, who cares. The outcome of the game isn’t relevant. What is relevant was that after the game everybody made a great big fuss about how well Shane Battier, who played small forward for the Rockets, had defended Kobe. It was the entire story from the game. All of the people who talked about basketball professionally seemed to be talking about it. There was this one clip that everyone was passing around and commenting on where Kobe was attempting a fadeaway jumper over Shane and Shane was all the way attached to him, as though he was part of him, as though he was an extension of his essence. It was, to be certain, excellent defense. In fact, it was picture-perfect defense. But as the chatter grew louder and louder about how picture perfect it was, all my brain could manage to think was, “Well, shit.”

  Because what I knew was that Kobe Bryant was going to see everyone talking about how well Battier had defended him, and he was going to come out the next game—the game against my beloved Spurs—and go fucking nuts. I knew it. I knew it was going to happen. I knew it like how you know when someone’s about to die in a horror movie.

  Now, I can’t recall if the Lakers won that post-Shane game against the Spurs or if they lost it. And really, I can’t even recall if Kobe played well or not against them. In my head, I remember him putting up something like 140 points and 25 assists, though I suspect that’s an inaccurate recollection. But, again, it doesn’t matter because, again, that isn’t the point. The point is this: I was afraid. I was 100 percent afraid of what Kobe was going to do as a response to people talking about how well he had been defended. I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, I just knew it was going to be bloody. And I was horrified.

  No other NBA player to that point, or since that point, has made me feel like that—at least not the way that Kobe did when he was at his most ferocious.1 He was goddamn terrifying. What he could do was goddamn terrifying. So that’s my first favorite Kobe Bryant memory: that he could inspire real, actual, palpable fear.

  My second favorite Kobe Bryant memory happened during a separate game between the Spurs and the Lakers in San Antonio. He had just hit some big shot2 late3 in some big game4 and was sort of jogging backwards up the court to get back on defense. And as he was doing so, he was holding his finger over his mouth, so as to shush the crowd because they’d been doing the “DE-FENSE [stomp] [stomp] DE-FENSE” chant in the moments before. But so he hit the shot, then told 18,000+ people to shut up as he glided backwards up the floor, looking very much like sassy evil incarnate. And it was a great villain moment. And then he tripped.

  He somehow got his feet tangled up in themselves. He stumbled, fell down, ended up doing a backwards roll thing, then popped back up. The arena, previously hissing, laughed at him. It was a great dork moment. So that’s my second favorite Kobe Bryant memory. He was always interesting in a bunch of different ways, often-times in ways he didn’t want to be, and when he wasn’t intending to be.

  This chapter jumps back and forth between discussing Kobe being a dork and Kobe being a great player. It should be said, though, that he has a long history of doing things that are neither of those things. There’s the time he (allegedly) ran Shaq out of LA; the time he (allegedly) ran Phil Jackson out of LA; the time he ran Andrew Bynum out of LA (he was caught on tape saying the Lakers needed to get him out of LA immediately so there�
��s no need for an “allegedly” here); the time he told the police that Shaq cheated on his wife and paid hush money to the women he cheated on her with, which Shaq later claimed was the reason he ended up getting a divorce; the time he shouted a homophobic slur at an official during a game; and the time he was accused of rape by a 19-year-old Colorado girl, a charge that was eventually dropped in criminal court by the plaintiff but settled for an undisclosed amount in civil court.

  Here are a bunch of easy facts about Kobe Bryant, designated as either ”cool” or “dorky”:

  Kobe Bryant was the first-ever guard drafted out of high school (cool). Kobe Bryant has more missed shot attempts than anyone in the history of the league (cool5). Kobe Bryant won five NBA championships during his career (cool). During the postgame press conference after he won his fifth, he was asked what it meant to him to have five championships and his response was, “I just got one more than Shaq,” referring to Shaquille O’Neal, a former teammate that he, at times, appeared to hate playing alongside (cool). Kobe Bryant once scored 81 points in a game (cool6). Kobe Bryant was selected for 12 NBA All-Defensive Teams (cool). Kobe Bryant was the first-ever player to reach 30,000 points and 6,000 assists (cool). Kobe went to prom with R&B singer and actress Brandy (cool).

  Kobe Bryant gave himself a nickname7 (dorky). Kobe Bryant gave himself a second nickname and tried to pretend like someone else gave it to him because a lot of people made fun of him for giving himself his first nickname8 (extra dorky). Kobe Bryant tried to be a rapper (super dorky) and in his first song he said the word “Italy” except he pronounced it “Eee-tah-lee”9 (extra super dorky). Kobe Bryant one time did a photoshoot that accompanied a story on him in the Los Angeles Times Magazine and he let them dress him up in an all-white pilgrim costume and then he pretended like it was cool (dorky). Kobe Bryant ended his speech at the end of the final game of his career by saying, “Mamba out” (so fucking dorky). Kobe Bryant got two-pieced up by Chris Childs, and this one’s dorky because, I mean, if you’re gonna get beat up by a Knick, that’s fine because that’s kind of what Knicks had been doing for six or seven straight years by that point, but just don’t let it be Chris Childs10 (dorky, but I suppose in at least an understandable way).

  HOW MANY YEARS WAS KOBE BRYANT THE BEST PLAYER IN THE LEAGUE?

  Let’s do some cleaning up first. Kobe Bryant played 20 seasons in the league. Of those 20 seasons, there are 10 seasons that we can automatically toss out of the discussion for one reason or another. We can get rid of

  • 1997: His rookie season. It certainly wasn’t his best basketball season (7.6 points per game; only started six times), but it was definitely his best television season; between 1996 and 1997 he appeared on The Rosie O’Donnell Show, Moesha, Arli$$, Sister, Sister, In the House, and Hang Time. I feel like that’s more impressive than the Lakers beating the Nets in the 2002 Finals.11

  • 1998: Nah.

  • 1999: The season only Spurs fans like to remember because everyone was out of shape and playing poorly because the lockout swallowed the first 32 games of the season.

  • 2000: Now it’s getting interesting. He averages over 20 points per game for the first time in his career (22.5). He makes his first All-Defensive First Team and also his first All-NBA Second Team. More importantly, though, he has his first real all-caps SUPERSTAR MOMENT, taking over in the fourth quarter and overtime of Game 4 of the 2000 NBA Finals after missing all of Game 3 with an ankle injury, giving the Lakers a 3–1 lead on the Pacers in a series they’d eventually win in six.

  • 2011: LeBron owns the season, Dirk owns the playoffs.

  • 2012: Let’s look at the advanced stats for LeBron, who was the league’s best player this season, versus the advanced stats for Kobe, who was not the league’s best player: [LeBron’s Win Shares: 14.5; Kobe’s Win Shares: 6.2] [LeBron’s VORP: 7.6; Kobe’s VORP: 2.4] [LeBron’s PER: 30.7; Kobe’s PER: 21.9] [LeBron’s BPM: 11; Kobe’s BPM: 2.3].

  • 2013: This was the last good version of Kobe anyone ever saw (27.3 points per game, 5.6 rebounds per game, 6.0 assists per game on the season; the third highest True Shooting Percentage of his career; All-NBA First Team). He had to play with Dwight Howard on his team, though, which was so frustrating for Kobe that rather than finish out the season with Dwight, he decided it’d be better to rupture his own Achilles instead, which he did in an April game against the Warriors.

  • 2014: He only played six games due to injury. Flush it down the toilet.

  • 2015: The first time in his career since the 1998 season that he plays more than 30 games in a season and doesn’t win any sort of All-NBA Team selection or All-Defensive Team selection.12

  • 2016: LOL.

  That leaves us with the middle seasons of his career, which were easily his best seasons. But was he the best player?

  To figure that out we can take a look at a bunch of different things, including personal accomplishments and accolades received during a season, personal accomplishments and accolades during the post-season, regular box score stats, advanced stats, team success during the regular season, and team success during the playoffs. If we take all of those and mush them all together, then we can figure out who the best player was for each of the seasons in question.

  2001

  All-Star / All-NBA Second Team / All-Defensive Second Team / NBA Champion

  Kobe begins to morph into a true terror.13 The Lakers go 15–1 in the playoffs, winning their second straight title. Following Game 1 of the Western Conference Finals, in which Kobe scores 45, Shaq calls him “the best player in the league by far,” even though it’s pretty clear that Shaq is the best player in the league.14 Kobe’s shooting percentage drops from 46 percent in the regular season to 41.5 percent in the Finals; meanwhile, Shaq averages a gaudy 33-16-5-3 in the Finals and wins his second straight Finals MVP.

  2002

  All-Star (and ASG MVP) / All-NBA First Team / All-Defensive Second Team / NBA Champion

  Tim Duncan is the best player in the league during the regular season, Shaq is the best player during the playoffs.

  2003

  All-Star / All-NBA First Team / All-Defensive First Team

  Kobe averages 30 points per game for the first time in his career and he also beats Shaq in Win Shares for the first time, too. Tim Duncan is the runaway best player in the league, though, in both the regular season and the playoffs.15

  2004

  All-Star / All-NBA First Team / All-Defensive First Team

  Nope. Everything goes topsy-turvy because of Kobe’s sexual assault case.16 Kevin Garnett is the best player in the league.

  2005

  All-Star / All-NBA Third Team

  Kobe (probably) gets Shaq traded and Phil Jackson decides not to return (reportedly because of Kobe). The Lakers go 34–48 and miss the playoffs for the first time in a decade. It’s a toss-up for the league’s best player. Choose between Garnett, Dirk, Shaq, and Nash.17 An argument can be made for each of them.18

  2006

  All-Star / Scoring Leader / All-NBA First Team / All-Defensive First Team

  Here’s the first tricky year to judge. It’s the highest scoring average of Kobe’s career (35.4), and it also happens to be the highest anyone’s averaged since Jordan’s 37.1 in 1987, earning Kobe his first scoring title. It’s also the year that he scores 81 against the Raptors, marking the second highest game total in the history of the NBA, so he gets credit there for being historical. He’s also selected to the All-NBA First Team and the All-Defensive First Team.

  The bad side, though: Kobe does all of that and the Lakers only win 45 games, then explode into a ball of fire in the first round of the playoffs, ashing away a 3–1 series lead against the Suns. (The most memorable part of this was Kobe refusing to shoot in the second half of Game 7, which the Lakers lost by 31.) The all-around numbers say that Dirk and LeBron are battling for the designation of the league’s best player, though Dwyane Wade owns the playoffs, tallying an NBA Finals statistically better than a
ny Kobe’s had up to this point (or even will have past this point).19

  But, so, no: Kobe’s not the best player for this season.

  2007

  All-Star (and ASG MVP) / Scoring Leader / All-NBA First Team / All-Defensive First Team

  Kobe changes his number to 24, which causes the creation of a bunch of fun theories about why he chose that particular number:

  • He changed it because he wanted to be one better than Jordan (this is a deliciously petty thing that I really hope is true).

  • He changed it because he wanted to rebrand himself after the sexual assault case, so he just took his original Lakers number and multiplied it by the number of championships he’d won to that point (3).

  • He changed it as a callback to his high school days. (He wore the numbers 24 and 33 in high school, and 24 wasn’t available when he got to the Lakers because another player had it20 and the number 33 was retired by the Lakers because Kareem Abdul Jabbar was a fucking badass.)

  • He changed it to 24 because he really, really likes Jack Bauer.21

  • He changed it to 24 to remind himself of how many seconds per each offensive position he should not pass the ball to any of his teammates.22

  It’s either LeBron as the best this season or maybe Dirk, though I’d lean toward LeBron because this is the season that Dirk’s Mavs raced out to the best record in the NBA and then were upset by the eighth-seeded Warriors in the first round of the playoffs.